


For Luck

by elysiumwaits



Series: Tumblr Prompts/Fics [3]
Category: Leverage
Genre: Eliot Spencer Deserves Nice Things, Fluff, Multi, Pining, Polyamory
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-07
Updated: 2019-07-07
Packaged: 2020-06-23 20:03:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 945
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19708438
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elysiumwaits/pseuds/elysiumwaits
Summary: For a Tumblr Kiss Prompt MemeBesides, they have each other for luck. What does Eliot have except for some promise he’s made and a heart that doesn’t care that they have each other?





	For Luck

**Author's Note:**

> I like prompts! I like ask memes! Come hang out with me on tumblr at elysiumwaits!

**** People in their line of work develop… rituals, for lack of a better term. Superstitions. Beliefs with really not much basis in reality, other than “well, that worked on a Tuesday once so it must work on  _ every _ Tuesday and  _ only _ Tuesday.” It’s similar, Eliot thinks, in the way that jocks in high school wear their “lucky” underwear on game day. 

In his opinion, it’s ridiculous. He’s not a God-fearing man, and the only luck he has is the luck he makes. 

He’ll never tell Parker or Hardison that, though, because if they go into a job believing it’ll work instead of with Eliot’s brand of pessimism… well, maybe there’s something to that.

(Besides, they have each other for luck. What does Eliot have except for some promise he’s made and a heart that doesn’t care that they have each other?)

“For luck!” Parker says, dropping down from the fridge when Eliot’s about to head out, a penny in hand. She holds it out proudly.

Eliot has never refused her anything and certainly isn’t about to start now, so he takes the penny. “Was it head’s up or something?” he asks, vaguely recalling someone once finding one on a sidewalk and saying it was lucky.

“Nope,” Parker says, and pops the ‘p.’ “I stole it. I mean, it might have been, but it was in someone’s pocket. Can a penny be head’s up in someone’s pocket? Or is it just flat?”

“What makes it lucky then?” Eliot asks, like he’s not already pocketing the penny into his dark, blend-in-with-the-shadows pants. 

Parker rocks back on her heels and gives him a grin. “I kissed it,” she says. “So you’ll come back safe.”

And then she’s gone, headed down the hallway to help Hardison get the stuff that’s going into the van. There’s a warmth in Eliot’s cheeks as he watches her go, one that he studiously ignores as he heads out the door. 

(That penny burns a hole in his pocket all night.)

Hardison practically ambushes Eliot coming out of the shower, grabbing the shirt around Eliot’s shoulders and yanking it away. “What the hell, Hardison!” Eliot snaps, grips the towel around his waist just a little tighter and widens his stance - just in case he needs that towel to hide a little more.

For one thing, Parker and Hardison weren’t even  _ home _ when he got into the shower in the first place, so he hadn’t cared about getting dressed in the bathroom like he usually did. Apparently, though, they have returned, and here was Hardison, getting a little too close for Eliot’s comfort (but plenty close for what Eliot’s daydreams). 

“Here,” Hardison says, and then he’s  _ manhandling _ Eliot’s head through the neck-hole of a tee-shirt. 

“ _ What the hell, Hardison! _ ” Eliot gripes again, like he’s not pushing his arms through the holes at Hardison’s insistence. He does throw in a glare for good measure, even if he can feel his face flushing and the tips of his ears going red.

“For luck,” Hardison says, grinning, and pats Eliot’s cheek as he brushes past, apparently fully satisfied that he had ambush-dressed Eliot in the hallway. It’s only after he’s disappeared into another room that Eliot realizes that Hardison has ambush-dressed him in  _ Hardison’s _ shirt. An old Pac-Man one, soft and worn, smells faintly like Hardison’s body wash and that underlying smell that is just Hardison - it’s a little too tight, because Hardison is lithe where Eliot is broad, but it’s not uncomfortable.

For luck. What the hell does Eliot need luck for?

(He wears it to bed. And he doesn’t give it back, but then, Hardison doesn’t ask for it.)

It’s supposed to be a quick job. Eliot just has to jump out, knock the guy out, grab his wallet, and get back in. Normally, Parker would be the choice here - pickpocketing job - except this guy knows her face, and Hardison’s too. He’s slick, this mark, which leaves Eliot to do this like a quick and dirty mugging.

“You got your penny?” Parker asks. 

Eliot glances at her. He does, in fact, have his penny. “Yeah?” he says, drawing up the end of the word like a question.

“What about your shirt?” Hardison asks from the driver’s seat.

Eliot looks between them, feeling like this is some joke he’s not in on. “Well, Hardison, all of my other black t-shirts disappeared somehow, so yeah.” He’d chalked it up to Parker raiding his dresser and groused while he was getting dressed, but he is, in fact, wearing Hardison’s Pac-Man shirt underneath his black hoodie.

The van comes to a stop - Eliot’s supposed to get out and go hide in an alleyway, ready to leap out and screw up this asshole’s night in the name of getting his company badge so that they can do some good old-fashioned framing. Before he pops that back door open, though, a hand grabs him by the hood and yanks him back - it’s a testament to how safe he feels with these two that he doesn’t immediately start swinging, instead just landing confused, bent across the center console between the two front seats.

A pair of lips presses to his - Parker, quick as ever, soft and delicate. Then, before he has time to recover, another pair - Hardison, chapped and grinning, a little longer and a little less chaste.

“For luck,” they say in unison, and shove him forward, back into the back of the van. 

(Later on, when the job is done, and Eliot’s sandwiched between them in bed, curled up in the middle of something he never thought he’d actually get outside his late night musings, he’ll admit he feels pretty lucky.)

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [[Podfic] For Luck](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24049312) by [seleneaurora](https://archiveofourown.org/users/seleneaurora/pseuds/seleneaurora)
  * [[Podfic of] For Luck](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24051742) by [Flowerparrish](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Flowerparrish/pseuds/Flowerparrish)




End file.
